All of us like sheep have gone astray,
Each of us has turned to his own way.
Isaiah 53:6a

The other day a tiny, dark pebble of a toad hopped across the road in front of me. When I halted, it did too, so I slowly eased my camera from its case and snapped a picture of its itty-bitty buttsy-wuttsy, the portion of its anatomy closest me. But I was hankering for a head shot, so I circled around. But before I could press the shutter button, the toad leaped into the air and landed, backside to the lens again. We repeated this little dance until I gave up and settled for a compromise: a side view of the little fellow.

While I tucked my camera away, the toad hopped in energetic circles on our little gravel road, But his efforts got him no closer to the soft, cool grassy ditch. From my vantage point, I knew that if he didn’t get moving, the next car down the road would splat him flat as Wiley Coyote under the steam roller. So I snuck up behind him, scooped him into my palm and bent to gently set him on the grass. But my arm was far from the ground when quivering, he sprang from my hand and in an impressive free fall, landed feet first, and dove for cover.

“Silly thing,” I thought and shook my head. “Don’t you know I saved your life?”
I went on my way, but as the day went on, the encounter disconcerted me. Somewhere, the tiny toad’s fear in my presence mirrored my fear of standing in the presence of God. When God looks me in the face I grow uncomfortable and afraid. I turn away so I can’t see Him. And I fool myself into thinking that means He can’t see me.

Continually, I try to move away from the One so vast I can never leave His sight. Energetically I hop in circles, afraid of the Rescuer who stands far above me. He sees the danger and death bearing down on me and gently carries me out of harm’s way. But I refuse to trust Him. Instead, I leap from His hand, totally unaware that He has rescued me from peril.

“I’m no smarter than that little toad,” I think and shake my head while I whisper a prayer.

God, make me wise enough to turn in Your direction and brave enough to trust You to rescue me.